We are in lockdown here. All businesses and venues open to the public must be registered, and patrons must check in using an app or by providing the owner with their names and phone numbers. Owners are held responsible for making sure that patrons check in properly and can refuse entry to anyone who does not comply. If a patron makes trouble over checking in or not being allowed entry, then the owner is authorised to call the police to sort it out.

I am displaying the proper signs and check-in information, and I take the checking in very seriously. I see a woman enter without showing her phone.

Me: “Hello, have you checked in all right?”

I suspect she hasn’t.

Customer: *Irritably* “No, I can’t be bothered with all that trouble.”

I respond quietly, trying to be helpful without causing an argument.

Me: “You are required to check in using the app or give me your name and phone number so I can register your visit here.”

Customer: *Glaring at me* “No! I’m not giving you my phone number. That’s personal information and I don’t know what you are going to do with it.”

Me: “It’s not for me; it’s for your own benefit. If you don’t check in one way or the other, I can’t allow you to come in.”

She is already several metres inside and still moving forward. I move very slightly toward her but still keep a safe distance. The woman suddenly turns on me and starts shouting.

Customer: “Touch me and I will have you up for assault and discrimination because I’m a woman!”

I quickly step back, holding up my arms.

Me: “All right! All right! I wasn’t going to touch you, but if you don’t behave properly and check in, it is my duty to notify the police.”

She turns and walks out, shouting over her shoulder.

Customer: “Don’t be stupid! You don’t know my name, my phone number, or where I live, and I’m wearing a mask, so how are the police going to find me?”

Even though she had actually been inside and should have been checked in, there was not much I could do about it once she had gone. I was left bewildered and confused, wondering why some people feel that they have to be so troublesome.

My friend is a police officer. He and his partner are driving behind a car that isn’t doing much to attract their attention, but their onboard computer tells them that the owner’s driving licence has been suspended for multiple DUI offences.

They pull the car over for a licence check, and the young man driving explains that it is his mother’s car and she allows him to use it. That’s no problem, but just to make sure, they ask for his licence as identification.

The Provisional Licence — one step up from a Learner’s Permit — he only had for three months has been cancelled for many unpaid speeding fines.

Police Officer: “Since you are driving without a valid licence, we are impounding the vehicle.”

Young Man: “Do you have to? I need to take the car home so that my mother will have it to go to work tomorrow.”

Police Officer: *Stunned* “You want me to let you drive home tonight, without a licence, so that your mother can drive to work tomorrow, also without a licence?”

The young man apparently doesn’t see any problem with this.

Young Man: “Yes, that would be very good of you. It would save me getting told off by my mom and she wouldn’t stop me borrowing the car.”

The officer turns to his partner, who is trying to stifle a laugh.

Police Officer: “It’s not funny!”

Trying not to laugh himself, he shakes his head and turns to the young man.

Police Officer: “I think we had better take you into the station and have a long talk with you and your mother when she comes to get you.”

I live in a flat near a woman who disturbs the whole block of flats with her very loud music. When we can’t stand it any longer, a group of us go to ask her to turn it down a bit. Because the music is so loud, it takes a lot of banging on her front door to get her attention. When she finally answers, we can’t talk to her because the music is still far too loud.

I push past her, go into her flat, and turn the volume down so we can talk to her. She looks very surprised.

Woman: “How did you do that?”

I’m a bit slow on the uptake here.

Me: “What?”

Woman: *Very puzzled* “How did you make it go quieter? I have been annoyed by it being too loud since I got it.”

I’m very perplexed, as we all are.

Me: “You just turn the volume control knob and it goes lower.”

Woman: *Even more puzzled* “What’s a volume control knob?”

After a demonstration, she finally came to understand that she could use the volume control to turn the loudness up or down. It appears that no one had ever told her that there was such a thing as a control to change the volume. She thought it was set at one loudness and she had to make do with it.

She still sometimes has her music a bit loud, but it’s nothing like it used to be, and now she can turn it down when we ask her to.

I went to my doctor for a very minor operation on my hand. He gave me two shots of local anaesthetic and we waited for a few moments for it to work. As soon as the scalpel touched my hand, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Doctor: *Puzzled* “You shouldn’t have felt that. You must be very sensitive. I’ll give you another shot.”

We waited a few minutes again. When the scalpel touched my hand, I jumped again.

Doctor: *Even more puzzled* “You shouldn’t have felt that. I can’t give you any more; it would be a bit risky.”

I just want to get it over and done with.

Me: “It’s not so bad. Go ahead and I’ll try not to react.”

The doctor carefully and successfully finishes the operation.

Doctor: ”Has this ever happened before? It looks like anaesthetics don’t work very well on you.”

Me: “I’ve never had any sort of anaesthetic, full or local, before.”

I drove home, a trip of about an hour. I sat down with a cup of tea, and suddenly, I lost all feeling in my body. Before I could react, I fell asleep. I woke up about three hours later with no apparent after-effects, apart from being worried.

A week later, I saw my doctor for a follow-up and told him what had happened.

Doctor: *Looking very concerned* “I’ve never heard of such a reaction before. It’s a good job it didn’t happen while you were driving home. I think that you had better be very careful about having any sort of anaesthetic in the future. I will put a DANGER note in your medical record.”

I now wear a bright orange “Anaesthetic Risk” medical alert wristband ALL THE TIME!

I’m out in the car park one day, admiring my neighbour’s car that is always gleamingly clean and runs perfectly. He is doing something to the engine, which is running. I shout so he can hear me.

Me: “How’s it going? Looks good!”

My neighbour continues peering closely at his car.

Neighbour: “I suppose so, but I’m not seeing very well these days.”

I’m just making conversation and having to shout again.

Me: “Engine runs very well!”

Neighbour: “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? I try very hard to keep it in good condition.”

Although the car is always in perfect condition, always very clean and runs well, it never leaves the car park. My neighbour is legally blind and so hard of hearing that he can’t get a driver’s licence. He can’t drive anyway.